


how you got me through

by Siria



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: non_mcsmooch, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-19
Updated: 2009-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheppard and Ronon might scoff, but the scientific method did demand sacrifices—Rodney had lost more sleep to experiments than to frat parties while in college, and things weren't much different now. Two in the Lantean morning, the light of the twin moons refracted by the city's dull glow, and here Rodney still was in his lab, because if the calibrations of the current set of simulations weren't monitored and the results properly logged, three weeks of work would be lost, and Rodney couldn't let that happen, even if today had been eventful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how you got me through

**Author's Note:**

> For [Argosy](http://argosy.livejournal.com), who wanted a late night in the labs.

Sheppard and Ronon might scoff, but the scientific method did demand sacrifices—Rodney had lost more sleep to experiments than to frat parties while in college, and things weren't much different now. Two in the Lantean morning, the light of the twin moons refracted by the city's dull glow, and here Rodney still was in his lab, because if the calibrations of the current set of simulations weren't monitored and the results properly logged, three weeks of work would be lost, and Rodney couldn't let that happen, even if today had been eventful.

Carefully, he eased himself back down onto the low couch that he'd had installed in the lab for nights just like tonight—mindful of the two mugs of thick, syrupy coffee he had in each hand, and even more aware of the cuts and bruises, the twisted ankle and the twinge in his knee, that were his souvenirs of an afternoon spent frantic and alone on Maktada's moon. Rodney managed to stop the _oof_ that wanted to escape himself as his bruised rear made contact with the cushions, and passed the second mug over to Jennifer. "You nearly done for the night?" he said, nodding at the laptop that sat on her crossed knees. "You don't have to wait up with me, you know."

Jennifer snorted and sipped from her mug of coffee. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and the dark circles under her eyes were proof of an Atlantean doctor's never-ending vigil. "I'm updating your team's medical files, Rodney. Do you know how _long_ that takes?"

Rodney erred on the side of caution. "Quite some time?"

"Ronon's file alone stretches to three volumes in hardcopy," Jennifer said mildly, tapping at another few keys, "and the colonel's is so large that only my desktop has enough RAM to open it."

"Ah," Rodney said, in part because he couldn't exactly deny his team's penchant for getting itself into... well, they had all been very lucky, and in part because not even the caffeine content of a strongly-brewed Turkish coffee was enough to allow him to stay both awake and focused on the computer screen sitting opposite him _and_ verbal.

Jennifer drained her mug and set it down on the floor—she was possibly the only person Rodney knew who could rival him in coffee consumption and yet still have a functioning nervous system—before closing her laptop and setting it down as well. "You know," she said, as she poked and prodded Rodney until he was in a position that was a little more comfortable—his shoes kicked off, coffee cup surrendered, weight shifted so that it wasn't resting on the worst of his bruises, his head resting on her thigh, "Radek was more than happy to sit up with this tonight. Bet he still would—you could go back to your quarters and get some sleep?"

"Nuh uh," Rodney said, emphatic despite the hour, despite the red-purple ache of his ribs. "'S'important."

"Okay," Jennifer said, "okay," and her small hand was light and soothing against his side, her lips soft against his temple, against his mouth—giving some small measure of comfort, asking no response from him that his tired, battered body couldn't give. "I'll stay up with you."

And she would, Rodney knew: she understood what was important to him, to them both; understood the curiosity that drove them on, the questions that both of them strove to answer, the things that kept them awake, curled close and comforting, through the long dark of the Lantean winter's night.


End file.
